


Knot this Again

by Xyriath



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Post-Canon, Previous Ed/Ling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5158670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, the most present alpha in Ed's life <i>doesn't</i> have any intentions towards him that are anything other than intellectual and platonic.</p><p>He should be glad.  Really, he should be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knot this Again

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write ABO comedy look what's become of me

The first time Ed _presented_ , he was in Xing.

As far as first places and times went, he supposed there were worse ones.  Worse than around a new emperor—who had been crowned the moment he had shown his proclivities as an alpha.  Who had begun his reform immediately and abolished the practice of like a million wives.  Who often invited Ed, as a guest of honor, to his private quarters.

Even though there were worse times and places, he really couldn’t bring himself to think of what those might be—certainly not on his back in Emperor Ling Yao’s bed, caught in the blissful throes of a heat, whining and begging and pleading for more as teeth sank into his neck.

And after, though he couldn’t bring himself to regret the hours (days) of bliss as he lay sated and sleepy in Ling’s arms, he couldn’t deny that if he let this happen again, things could get very, very messy.

And it was there, in Xing, curled up in the bed of an emperor, that he swore he’d never get tangled up with an alpha again.  

Not even for another fuck of a lifetime.  He had actual important shit to do.

—

Amestris was a breath of fresh air, at first.  Though he hadn’t yet been able to find a suppressant that worked to completely mask his identity—not all omegas could be that lucky, he guessed—it was heaps better than constantly being some kind of rarity, with his legendary golden hair and eyes and shit.  That was _much_ worse than barely-there pheromones, because at least the latter didn’t make him any kind of special rarity.

It still didn’t keep the street harassment completely off his back, of course.  But the two catcallers who smelled him and his breaking heat across the street and thought he’d make an easy target to display their assholery learned their mistake very, _very_ quickly.

“You wanna fuckin’ repeat that again?” Ed snarled, gripping the shirt of the guy who was still standing.  After he had seen what Ed did to his friend—who was currently writhing on the sidewalk after the attempt at an ass grab—he had turned very apologetic very quickly.

“No—no, I’m sorry.  Very sorry,” he pleaded, hands raised, half-defensive, half-pleading.  Ed couldn’t feel sorry for them; the kinds of guys who tried to use their alpha-ness as an excuse to harass people and then turned into whining wimps when called out on it _deserved_ to have a little taste of their own damn medicine.

“Good.  You should be.  You keep your mouth to yourself or I’ll put my fuckin’ foot down your throat, got it?”

The guy nodded again, and if Ed had still had his automail arm—or his alchemy—he would have left him with something super special to remember Ed by.  This time, he supposed he’d have to settle for piss-soaked pants.

And then the guy took advantage of Ed’s distraction to wrench out of his grip, and Ed was _just_ about to clock the guy when—

A firm hand clapped down on his shoulder from behind, and a wave of alpha scent washed over him.  “ _Excuse—_ ”

Ed’s reaction was entirely automatic reflex, born from spending years getting himself into trouble and then out again with fairly physical means, compounded by the uneasiness of two—now three—displeased alphas.  His left elbow jabbed backwards, connecting with something soft, and he whirled, fists raised, ready to fight whoever was coming after him now.

It took him several seconds to recognize the doubled-over figure, flashes of blue fabric and Amestrian military trim raising his hackles instinctively before his rational mind caught up and informed him that oh, yes, he did recognize that head of black hair and no, it didn’t belong to a threat.

“Mustang.”  Ed didn’t _mean_ for his tone of voice to be so flatly unimpressed, but dealing with two asshole alphas didn’t exactly leave a person feeling warm and fuzzy inside.  “Long time no see.”

Roy coughed, straightening slowly, trying to hide the wince in his expression in a way that might have worked if Ed didn’t know him so well.  A glance back at his opponents revealed two very, very horrified looking alphas.

Well, good.  Ed had never really noticed before, but Roy gave off a very understated, but very, very dangerous air.  Hell, Ed hadn’t even realized that Roy was an alpha until this moment.  But, more importantly, he could set these fuckers on fire.  Ed hoped they knew that.

He also hoped that _he_ wasn’t about to be set on fire.  The elbow was an accident, honestly.

“Quite,” Roy managed to get out between his coughing.   _His_ expression seemed to be as unimpressed as Ed’s voice.  “I heard a disturbance.  Is there a problem here?”

Roy’s eyes took on a sharp gleam as they cut first to the man whose shirt Ed had grabbed, then to the one trying to sit up.  “Is there a _problem_ here?”

“N-no, Majesty,” the first one babbled, a sudden panic in his eyes.  Majesty?  Now that Ed thought about it, he might have heard about Mustang making Fuhrer or something…  “We were—we were just…”

“Leaving.”  Roy’s voice was cold and dangerous, and even Ed had to be impressed with how quickly the two men bolted, leaving them alone on the street.

“You know,” Ed muttered, glaring after them.  “I had that _totally_ under control.”

“And if I had known it was you,” and of course the fucker was as smooth as ever, “I would never have dared interfere.”

Damn, he was good, Ed had to admit.  And—

Well, shit.  He was an alpha, wasn’t he.

Ed just scoffed, turning his glare to direct it at Roy instead.  “Fine.  I’ll let you off this time.”

Roy smirked.  “Your generosity is appreciated.”

There were so many things—so _many_ —that Ed could have said, but right now, Roy’s presence just made him feel itchy, and in a way that was disconcertingly familiar of how he had felt right before he and Ling—

He didn’t need to think about that right now.

Ed cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders.  “Right.  Well, I’m gonna head back to my hotel now.”

“Let me walk you home at least.”

Ed’s expression went immediately from grumpy to incredulous.  “Are you fuckin’ kidding?  I just told you I don’t need your protection—“

“For my peace of mind, then.”  The bastard didn’t even look fazed; apparently, becoming Fuhrer hadn’t changed that trademarked smug, insufferable expression one bit.  “It’s been years, Edward.  I’d like to catch up, at least.”

“Can’t wait to brag about your mindblowing political campaign, I bet.”  But Ed started walking without refusing.  If he followed, whatever.  “How’d that even happen, anyway?  People thought it was a modeling contest instead?”

“Ignoring the fact that you’ve just called me attractive,” Roy said, amused—shit— “there was actually public outcry when I didn’t immediately take the office after the Promised Day.  You seem to be underestimating me—a flaw that you share with my political opponents, and one I never hesitate to use my advantage.”

Ed didn’t miss the sharklike grin that punctuated those words, and a shiver ran down his back.  Damn.

“Right.  So, miss me on the campaign shit.  Tell me how the alchemy research has been going.”

This, as Ed had planned, took them down a road of eager academic discussion interspersed with semi-good-natured retorts—which Ed had _not_ planned, but enjoyed nonetheless.  Ed seized upon it like a thirsty man seizing water in the desert; it had been so damn _long_ since he had talked alchemy, not alkahestry, with someone who understood it so thoroughly.

And it helped, just a little, with that itch in the back of his skull, the reminder that even with his suppressants, the next week was going to be something resembling hell.  And it didn’t help that Roy smelled so nice, either, but it wasn’t like he could just demand him to _stop._  Not when he had plenty of other things to share—and argue—that were worth far more of his attention.

Roy was in the middle of explaining an alternate method of application for the Weishaupt array and Ed was listening _very_ intently when he realized the conversation had taken them straight to the entrance of his hotel.

And Roy had stopped.

“This is where you’re staying?”

Ed narrowed his eyes at the veiled disdain in Roy’s tone.  Maybe he had come last-minute and the only place he had been able to find that was remotely affordable wasn’t in the best of shape, but Roy didn’t have to be an _asshole_ about it.

“Yeah, so?”  He could feel himself bristling, already uneasy with the proximity of an alpha— _this_ alpha—god fucking dammit, Elric, stop your goddamn—

“I’m only saying, as a close personal friend of the Fuhrer—“  He ignored Ed’s snort.  “You should be staying somewhere much more… respectable.”

“Yeah, well, respectable and right now don’t exactly go well with limited funds, since you’re not paying my stipend anymore—“

“You’re welcome to stay at the mansion.”

Ed’s thoughts and mouth slammed to an immediate halt.  “What?” he responded intelligently.  At the Fuhrer’s mansion.  With Roy.   _Living_ with Roy.  Who was standing here looking all well-maintained and sleek and attractive and with this faint hint of spiciness—

“The Fuhrer’s mansion.  It’s obscene, really, how many empty rooms there are, and I would be more than willing to open it up to someone who I know won’t cause…”  He paused, then sighed, sounding resigned.  “… _intentional_ disaster.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m a model fuckin’ citizen now.”  And it was true!  He hadn’t even started that bullshit in the street.  “But…”  He narrowed his eyes.  “Look, let’s just get the goddamn elephant out of the middle of the room.  I’m an omega and I _know_ you know it, and you’re an alpha, so if this is some kind of plot to trap me in your house when I’m about to—“

“Ed.”

Roy’s voice was calming and confident, steady enough to command Ed’s attention and pull him into falling silent.  It was almost hypnotic, the way that he drew Ed in.

“I have absolutely no intentions towards you in any other manner than giving you a place to stay.”  He smiled a little.  “And, perhaps, picking your brain a bit more.”

Ed was silent for several moments as his brain processed this information, placing it in the context in which it needed to be understood.

“Oh.”

It took him a moment to recognize the tone of his voice.  It was… it was disappointed.  With some shock, he took stock of not just his tone, but the way his skin was crawling, just a little.  He sounded disappointed.  He _was_ disappointed.

And—and just a little insulted.

“Oh?”

Ed shook his head at Roy’s inquiry, trying to clear his head.  “Never fucking mind.  So what if I decide I do want to?”  This was a bad idea.  This was a _terrible_ idea, honestly.

Roy reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card.  A business card?  Fuck, he hadn’t been kidding about his intentions.

“My phone number is on there, if you want to call.  Or,” he continued, smirking, “if you still like to cause as much inconvenience as you used to, you can show up and hope my guards don’t have you arrested.”

“They can fuckin’ _try_ ,” Ed muttered, scowling at the professional typeface and trying to ignore the way the expression on Roy’s face made his chest flutter.  It was embossed.   _Embossed._

“Either way, please do call.  I’d like to continue our conversation when you’re in a better mood.”

Ed’s head snapped up, mouth opening for _some_ kind of insult, he wasn’t sure what, but Roy simply lifted his hand and waved it in a dismissive fashion before turning to walk off.

“Unbelievable,” Ed huffed, glaring back down at the card as he wandered inside, taking the hallway back to his room.  As soon as he unlocked the door, however, he could hear that his neighbor above him had decided to continue their tap-dancing lessons from the past two nights.  Or maybe they were rearranging furniture.  Or were an elephant.  Who fuckin’ knew.

Ed’s fingers played with the edges of the card as he pretended to examine it; in reality, his mind wandered.  The Fuhrer’s mansion _was_ legendary in its comfort—and its cuisine.  And Ed hadn’t had really good Amestrian food in ages.

Still—this could go badly.  He _was_ about to hit a heat; had been feeling edgy for days.  But it was suppressed.  And Roy had sworn that he had no intentions towards him like that.

But that still left him with a twinge of _annoyance._

The faint, spicy scent that was uniquely Roy wafted around him again, and it took Ed a moment to realize that he had closed his eyes and sniffed the card, still slightly warm from Roy’s pocket.

Okay, wow, no.  He yanked it away from his nose immediately.

But free food.

Fine.  He supposed he could leave the bastard a message.

As he reached for the phone, the image of Roy’s face, the way it smirked after he had handed Ed the card, the confidence with which he had strutted off, flickered through his mind.

Shit.


End file.
